


Into the Dark

by jncar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Gen, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 03:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5441969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jncar/pseuds/jncar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Swan’s plan succeeds, but Emma still loses. There’s only one way she can make things right, and she needs to do it now—before it’s too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is super evil. But I couldn’t stop myself. Sorry I guess? Both parts are finished but it felt a little too long to post as a one-shot, so I’m putting up part 1 today and part 2 on Friday.

She closes her eyes and feels it. It’s like a light is swelling inside of her, filling her up, while a weight is being lifted from her shoulders at the same time.

God she hopes Killian is feeling it, too. If this doesn’t work… No. It’s working. It has to.

A shudder runs through the blade to her arm, and in that instant she knows it’s done. 

With a sigh of weariness she opens her eyes.

She wishes she hadn’t.

Zelena’s body is slumped against the stone wall, her eyes wide and staring, blood spreading from the place just below her heart where Excalibur is still lodged. She’s still in her hospital gown and robe.

Because a few hours ago she gave birth.

“Oh my God,” Emma whispers. “What have I done?”

With a primal, instinctive jerk she pulls the sword free of Zelena’s body and stares at it as it crumbles to ash in her hands—a final sign that the Darkness is fully and truly destroyed. Or at least the Darkness that began with Nimue is.

Emma stares at Zelena’s body and a brand new weight settles over her. The weight of a darkness that no magic will ever erase.

A glance tells Emma that she is herself, again. Her hair falls long and loose, and she wears her red leather jacket over a white sweater.

She’s herself. But not a version of herself that she ever wanted to be.

“What have I done?” she whispers again, knowing the answer but still not believing it.

“Emma! Emma!” Killian’s hoarse cry from another section of the cavernous basement snaps her out of her reverie.

She turns away from Zelena. Killian—she needs to see him. She needs to see with her own eyes that it worked. That he’s free.

_I’ll never be free of this, but at least he can be._

She stumbles toward his cries and finds him standing, straining, one of his arms still chained to wall. His eyes are wide with fear, and his mouth drops open as he sees her. “Emma?” he asks in a hushed voice.

She searches his eyes, looking for any signs of the Darkness that might linger there. But there’s nothing. It’s him—her Killian. The man who loves her.

Her shoulders slump as the exhaustion drags at her, and she manages a smile of relief as a tear rolls down her cheek. It was worth it. She’ll never be able to forgive herself—but at least Killian is safe. “Yes. It’s me again. I destroyed it. The Dark One is gone forever.” She reaches out to touch the chain on his arm and a quick burst of magic releases him.

He grabs her shoulder and holds her gaze. He shakes his head. “This isn’t right. Something’s not right—I see it in your eyes. What did you do, Emma? What price did you have to pay to vanquish the Darkness? I know you’ve been plotting something since we came back—something you needed to hide. What did you do?” The fear in his eyes breaks her.

She can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks, and she can’t find her voice to answer him. Instead she turns and shuffles toward the dark chamber where the body lies, and he follows.

She doesn’t look at him. She doesn’t want to see the look on his face when he realizes what she did.

_It was worth it_ , she tries to convince herself. _He’s alive. He’s safe. Everyone is. It was worth it._

It’s harder lying to herself than it was lying to everyone else. 

She feels his hand rest on her shoulder, but still can’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“Emma—it wasn’t you. The Darkness had its grip on you. It twisted your mind.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince her. She can’t blame him. “I don’t know, anymore. I don’t know if it was me or the Dark One who made this choice.” It’s hard to speak, and her voice feels rough in her throat.

“But it worked,” he says. She doesn’t know whether it’s a question or a compliment.

“It worked.” She nods.

“Emma—I—I—” Killian’s voice is suddenly strangled.

She turns her head quickly to look at him as he stumbles back from her and grasps at his neck. Blood oozes from between his fingers.

“No!” The scream tears from her throat. _No no no no no no no._

He leans heavily against the nearest wall and winces in pain. “What the hell?”

She grabs him, holding him upright. “This was supposed to fix you! This was supposed to keep you safe! No!” Her heart is stopping. This can’t be real. Not after everything she’s done.

Blood continues to flow down his neck, and he grimaces through his pain. “What happened in Camelot? What did you do?”

With a wordless cry she summons all her magic. She can’t give up now. Not after what she became for his sake. She won’t give up.

She focuses her magic, and in a swirl of smoke she takes them to the hospital. If magic can’t save him, maybe modern medicine can.

She screams for help as soon as they arrive. Nurses and orderlies rush to them, taking Killian to the nearest bed. All the while he watches her—unspoken questions and obvious doubts filling his eyes.

_It’s never going to be the same. Even if they can save him. He’s never going to trust me again._

When Whale arrives she steps back and lets him work. Stitches and gauze pads and blood transfusions— _God, please let this work_. She doesn’t want to be a murderer for nothing. She can’t watch him die. Not after all she’s done.

She waits and watches, her mind blank of anything other than a repeated, silent plea to whatever might be listening that Killian will be spared.

After what feels like a lifetime Whale approaches her. “We’re replenishing his lost blood, and the sutures are holding. But more blood keeps seeping through. It just won’t clot or seal. If this wound was made by magic I might not be able to fix it, and we can’t just keep giving him transfusions forever. Emma—is this a magical wound?”

Emma glances away from Whale’s intent gaze to where Killian lies, a thick white bandage wrapped around his neck, already starting to look spotted with red where the blood is soaking through. An IV in his arm feeds more blood into his veins. But Whale is right. This can’t go on forever.

She feels another cry rising in her chest—a cry of anguish and rage against the Universe for taking him from her after all. But she holds back. In her heart she knows the Universe isn’t to blame. She lost Killian all on her own.

Her mind races, sifting through all the magical knowledge she gained in her time as a Dark One. There has to be something….

She finds it. The answer. The only possible way to make things right.

“Keep him alive as long as you can,” she says, her voice low. “I’m going to fix this.”

Before Whale can reply she spins away and stalks down the corridor. Gold. She has to find Gold.

Her family finds her first.

They are there in the front lobby of the hospital—her parents, Regina, and Henry.

Her eyes linger on Henry and she blinks to fight back a fresh wave of tears. How can she do this to Henry?

_After what I did to Violet—after what I did to Zelena—he won’t want me in his life anymore, anyway. He’ll learn to move on._

She hopes she’s right. She doesn’t deserve his forgiveness. _Please let him be happy without me._

Her mother speaks first. “Emma… we found the body.”

Emma’s throat is too tight to speak. She looks at the ground and nods.

Regina steps toward her. “Did it work? Did using her destroy the Dark One?” She sounds both hopeful and angry at the same time.

Again, Emma nods. After a moment of struggle she finds her voice. “Yes. It worked. But it was the wrong way. I did it the wrong way.” She chokes a little on her words, and can’t stop her eyes from drifting to Henry’s pained face. “I’m so sorry.”

They all look as if they’re struggling to reply. But she can’t do this now. It’s too much. She needs to focus. She needs to find Gold.

She shakes her head. “I’m so, so sorry. I…I have to go. I have to go.”

“Go where?” her mother demands.

Emma pushes past them toward the door. Her father grabs her arm—his grip firm yet gentle. “Emma—we need to talk about this.”

“No. It’s too late to save Zelena, but I can still save Hook.”

Her father frowns. “Hook? What’s wrong with Hook?”

She shakes her head. “Go to him. He needs his friends right now. I need to go. I need to fix this.”

He releases her arm when she tugs away from him. Just before she reaches the door, Henry calls out. “Mom! Wait.”

She pauses to look back at him. The tears in his eyes are too much for her. Her voice shakes. “I love you, Henry. I love you so much. I’m so sorry. For everything.”

He steps toward her.

_Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it._

She turns and pushes out the door before he can speak. There’s no time for forgiveness. A price needs to be paid, and she’s the one who deserves to pay it.

She has to find Gold.

~*~

Killian feels like he’s been beaten from the inside out. The doctor has done something to numb the pain in his neck a bit, but he still feels it. The raw, bloody ache as his life seeps out of him drop by drop.

_What the hell happened in Camelot?_

It always comes back around to that. Emma said that everything she did, she did for him. He struggled to believe that at first, but now? The shock on her face when he started to bleed was as real and as painful as anything he’s ever seen. Her words still ring in his ears; _“This was supposed to fix you! This was supposed to keep you safe!”_

Whale steps up to change the dressing on his neck yet again. Killian grimaces at the sodden mess the doctor drops in a bin behind him, and then glances at the bag of blood on the stand beside him, slowly flowing into his veins. How soon will it all come right out again?

_What the bloody hell happened in Camelot?_

He’d been angry when Emma cast a spell of sleep over him. He’d let himself trust her again, and she’d turned his trust against him. _Did I really pick out that house? Was that the future she was trying to save?_ He wants it. He wants it more than anything. But what she did tonight changes everything.

A deep, overwhelming pain had awakened him from his enchanted slumber. He’d felt as if a piece of his soul was being ripped out by force. And then it was over. And Emma had walked toward him looking like herself again. 

Like herself, only broken. Like herself, only lost.

Killian had killed many a man for far lesser offenses than what Zelena had done to Emma and the people of Storybrooke. But Emma wasn’t like him. Where he’d been weak, she was strong. He needed to find her. To explain her to that it was the Darkness. And even with the Darkness poisoning her thoughts and pushing her toward a horrible final act, that act had still been for the purpose of destroying the Darkness once and for all.

Using Zelena—that had been the Darkness. But using all her tricks and plans to vanquish the Darkness itself? That had been Emma. The woman he loved.

But he’s too drained of energy and strength to get out of this bed and find her to tell her that he forgives her—that he still loves her. That’s what she needs right now, but this damn injury is stopping him. And more than that, he feels a bone-deep weariness unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. He can’t remember the last time he slept. Has he slept at all since returning from Camelot? Funny that he never noticed that ‘til now.

_What the hell happened in Camelot?_

As soon as his new dressing is in place the entire gang shows up—minus the dwarves, thank god.

David and Mary Margaret stand with shoulders brushing, and Mary Margaret holds her little one in the cradle of her arms. Robin holds his tiny girl against his shoulder. Regina stands with her arm around Henry’s shoulders. All of them are clinging to their children as if they could be lost at any moment—a reasonable concern, given the history of this town.

But today Killian knows there is another reason why. David and Mary Margaret are terrified of leading their little Neal down the same dark path that his sister has stumbled onto. Robin has no idea how to tell his daughter that her birth mother was slaughtered hours after she was delivered. And Henry—he needs Regina now more than ever. At least until Emma can forgive herself.

“We need to find her,” he says with no preamble.

All of them shuffle their feet and look away. He frowns. Regina finally answers. “I don’t think she wants to be found right now. We found—we found my sister.”

Killian squeezes his lips together and nods as much as he is able. “Aye.” He glances at Robin. “I’m sorry, mate.”

Robin nods quietly in return and holds his girl a little tighter.

“At least we know why she took our memories, now,” Mary Margaret says softly. “She knew that if she shared her plan for destroying the Dark One, we would have stopped her. There had to have been another way, but I have no idea what it might have been.”

“It’s more than that,” Killian says, his voice hoarse. “I went to her earlier tonight. I tried to get through to her, and she admitted something to me. She said that she was doing all this for me. This wound didn’t happen here. I think… I think this happened in Camelot. Somehow she was able to delay it, and she thought destroying the Dark One would heal it. But it failed. That’s why she left. I saw it in her eyes.”

Regina knits her brows. “How the hell would destroying the Dark One heal you?”

“I have no idea, love. But I know how to find out.” He’s done nothing but think since Emma left him here. He’s run his mind over everything that happened since their arrival in Storybrooke. It was the only thing he _could_ do. “The dreamcatchers. We need to find out what the hell happened in Camelot.”

Regina nods. “Yes. We need to find them.”

“Go on,” Killian urges. “I’ll be fine. You need to get those answers. I don’t know what she’ll do in this state. We have to help her.”

They all agree, and turn to leave.

Killian needs to say one last thing. “Henry,” he calls.

Henry looks to Regina and she nods, letting her son hang back. Henry walks to Killian’s side.

“Lad,” he says, “I know what it feels like to give up hope. To let darkness overwhelm you. It can happen to anyone—even without a curse. But she was cursed. Don’t forget that. She was still strong enough to fight to destroy it, even if her methods were… less than heroic. Your mother never would have done those things without the curse of the Dark One. I know that. You need to believe that, too.”

Henry sniffs, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I know.”

“Good. Now go help her. Please.”

Henry nods, and then turns to join the others.

Killian is glad that someone is going to help Emma. He only wishes it could be him.

_What happened in Camelot_? Until he has the answer to that question, he won’t be able to rest. He needs answers, and he needs them now. He hopes Regina and the others will find them.

~*~

Gold is at his shop, leaning against his counter with a dazed expression on his face. Belle stands in another corner of the shop, a crossbow raised, pointing it at Emma.

When Emma walks through his door he blinks in surprise, taking in her appearance. “You did it. I didn’t think you could, but you did.” He gestures at Belle to lower the bow.

“How?” he asks, his face twisted in incredulity.

“I channeled all of the Darkness into Zelena, and then I killed her with Excalibur.” Emma’s voice is flat as she confesses her crime. She has no time for wallowing in guilt. Not when Killian is dying.

Belle gasps in horror, and Emma expects that most everyone in town will react the same way. And she deserves their horror. What she did was horrific. But she’s ready to pay. She hopes they’ll respect her for that.

“Well,” says Gold, looking thoughtful. “I suppose that would do the trick, wouldn’t it. So it’s really gone.” Emma notices the tone of regret in his voice. Damn him.

“I need your help,” she says.

Gold raises his eyebrows. “With what? I thought the deed was done.”

“It is. But Killian is dying.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do about that, Miss Swan? I’m no doctor, and I have no more magic.” Gold’s tone has slipped back to his usual taunting arrogance.

Emma steps toward him. She doesn’t have time for this. “I need your blood.”

She quickly explains her plan, and Gold blinks in surprise. It is Belle who makes the difference. “You really believe you can bargain with Charon to save Killian’s life?”

Emma nods. “I do.” She doesn’t tell Belle what she plans to offer in trade. Belle doesn’t need to know. But she can tell from the gleam in Gold’s eyes that he knows all too well.

Belle turns to her estranged husband. “You have to help her. After all the times she’s helped you—helped us. You owe her this.”

After a moment’s pause, Gold nods. “You’re right. I do. I’ll help you, Miss Swan. But we’d best hurry, before someone shows up to stop you, as I have no doubt they’ll do.”

She swallows hard. _Okay. No turning back now_. “I just need a few minutes—and a pen and some paper. I need to write some letters for my family.” She glances at Belle, who wears a sad, knowing expression on her face. Maybe Belle understands more than she lets on. “Just in case,” Emma adds, more for show than because anyone in the room believes her.

Belle nods and goes to fetch the pen and paper for her.

While she waits for Belle’s return, Gold sidles up to her and speaks in a low voice. “Are you sure about this, Miss Swan? You know what will be required in trade for his life. Is he really worth it?”

She feels the urge to punch him in the face—it would be long overdue—but holds back. “Yes. He is.”

The letter to her parents flows right from her heart. “I’ve made too many mistakes. And I can’t let anyone else pay for what I’ve done. Especially not Killian. I’m the one who needs to pay the price. It’s justice. Deep down you know I’m right. So please, promise me you’ll move on and find happiness and help Henry grow into the best man he can be. And be there for Killian—don’t let him blame himself for my mistakes. Help him be strong. That’s enough for me. To die knowing the family I always wanted is safe. I will love you all forever. Emma.”

The letter to Henry is harder. “I let you down. And I can never say I’m sorry enough. You’re so strong and so amazing—I know you’ll grow into one of the best men I’ve ever known. Regina will always be there for you even though I can’t. Promise me you’ll let that be enough. Promise me you’ll find happiness and love without me. You’ll always be my true love. Mom.”

When she lifts the pen to write the last letter—the letter to Killian—it’s too much for her. There’s too much to say. Too much to apologize for, and no way to make it right.

Instead she folds the two completed letters and hands them to Belle. “Wait one hour, and if I’m not back, take these to my family.”

Belle nods, her lips tight and her eyes knowing.

Gold steps outside the shop with Emma. She turns to him. “There’s one more thing I need to do first. Go to the pond—you know the one. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

Gold nods and lets her go. As she walks she summons a dreamcatcher into her hands. She heads for the hospital.

~*~

Killian lets himself close his eyes for a few moments after a nurse changes his dressing again. He doesn’t want to sleep, but he’s so tired. Tired enough to sleep for weeks.

The sound of movement next to his bed disturbs him and he opens his eyes. Emma is there. He gasps and then catches his breath. “Your family is looking for you. I told them to find the dreamcatchers. We need to know, Emma. We need to know what happened in Camelot.”

Emma nods. He notices now that her eyes are red from crying. He reaches out to her. “Emma—it’s okay.”

“No. It’s not,” she replies. She lets him rest his hand on her arm, but her expression is still filled with pain. “Before you try to comfort me or help me, you need to know the truth.”

His heart skips a beat. Whatever she’s about to say, he’s knows it won’t be good. Nothing that comes from the Dark One is ever good. “I forgive you,” he says before she carries on. “I told you that before…before what you did tonight. But nothing you’ve done changes that. I still love you, and I forgive you.”

She shakes her head and a tear slides down her cheek. “You shouldn’t. I know how important choice is to you. And I took away your choices so many times these past few weeks. I hurt you in so many ways. But I’m done lying, and I’m done controlling you. I’ll never take away your choice again. That’s why I brought this.”

She raises her hand to display a dreamcatcher. A lump rises in his throat. Controlling him? Taking away his choices? Just what did she do in Camelot? Before he can open his mouth to speak the dreamcatcher begins to glow and his old memories wash over him like a tidal wave.

At first he is happy—she was so strong for so long. And he was able to bolster her strength. She _loves_ him. But at the end the memories change from happiness to sorrow and then anger and disbelief. He remembers the Darkness inside of him. He remembers how quickly it overwhelmed him—how full of _rage_ he was.

He gasps as the final moments of his memories fill him—as he remembers how it felt to hold Merlin’s heart in his hand and to crush it into dust.

He feels tears on his cheeks as she lowers the dreamcatcher. “How could you do that to me? How could you?” His heart weighs like lead in his chest. He trusted her— _how could she_?

“I told you I wasn’t strong enough. I begged you not to do it. Damn it, Swan, why didn’t you let me go?” He can hardly see through the anger and disappointment that floods his mind. She’d been fighting the Darkness and winning, yet she still did this to him? “It didn’t change anything, Emma. I’m still going to die of this wound. You couldn’t stop it—you still can’t. All you did was hurt the people you love. Why didn’t you just let me go?”

She backs away from him, new tears welling in her eyes. “I did it because I couldn’t imagine a way to go on living in a world without you in it.”

Her anguish-filled confession shocks him into silence. Would he have made the same choice, had their positions been reversed? But he never would have had the chance—he knows now how quickly the Darkness had consumed him. Love would have meant nothing to him if he’d been in her place. But it had meant everything to her. He meets her gaze and struggles to find words to speak. A way to say goodbye to her with love instead of anger, before he bleeds out. 

But he hesitates too long.

“I need to pay for my mistakes. I hope that someday you’ll be able to forgive me,” she says, and without another word she vanishes in a swirl of magic.

“Emma! Emma!” He sits in spite of his pain and swings his legs over the side of the bed to stand. He needs to find her. He knows that look in her eyes. He’s felt that same hopelessness. He’s wished for his own death more than a few times. And after what she’s done, she doesn’t believe there’s any way to come back—any way to be forgiven. She’s about to do something irreversible. He needs to stop her before it’s too late.

But then the doctor and nurses on are on him, swirling around him, pushing him back to his bed, commanding him to stay put. 

“I need to find her!” he snarls.

“If you walk out of this hospital you’re going to die,” the doctor barks back. 

“I’m going to die anyway! At least let me die helping the woman I love.”

Whale’s face is grim, but he nods and turns to the nurses. “Let him go.”

The nurses step back and Killian stands and yanks the IV out of his arm, wincing at the pain. He feels a little dizzy, but he can stand. Thank god he never let them force him out of his clothes and into one of those damnable sick-gowns.

He holds Whale’s gaze. “Call Regina. Tell her that Emma is going to do something rash, and we need to stop her. Tell her…” He pauses, wondering where to direct Regina’s search. And then it comes to him in a flash. Though he was under the direct influence of the Dark One for less than a day, Nimue still made her desires clear to him. And Emma would know those desires, too. “Tell her to meet us at the old mill pond on the east side of town.”

Whale nods and pulls out a phone.

Killian wobbles for the first few steps, but then he finds his footing and strides out of the hospital. She’ll know about the pond, and she’ll know what the crocodile’s blood can do there. If she was desperate enough to pull a con on the Darkness and alienate her whole family in the process all to save him before, then she’ll be desperate enough to call on the realm that lies beyond that pond now.

He has to stop her. He’s not worth it. He never thought he was, but the way he so quickly gave in to Nimue’s desires proved it.

He’s never been worthy of Emma’s love, and he certainly isn’t worthy of her death. 

Somehow he has to convince her forgive herself. And convince her to finally let him go.

He reaches up and feels warm moisture seeping through the dressing on his neck. He just needs to survive long enough to stop her. That will be enough.

~*~

Gold is waiting at the shore of the pond when Emma arrives. It will be dawn, soon. She can see the first glow of morning light in the distance. It would be nice to see the sun one last time, but she can’t wait. She doesn’t know how much time Killian has left.

She doesn’t want to leave Henry. She doesn’t want to leave her family and friends. But after what she did to Zelena—after what she did to all of them—she’d never really be able to go back to them again. She’ll never truly be able to make amends. They’ll be better off without her.

And Killian…

His words of anger in the hospital still sting. And he has every right to hate her. She did to him the very thing that he’s fought against his whole life. And all the pain she caused to him and everyone else will all be for nothing unless she can pay the price. It’s all that’s left for her. It’s the only way for her to be a hero again.

She stops beside Gold and looks down into the dark water, wondering just how deep it goes.

“Are you certain about this, Miss Swan? Because once I open this gate, there will be no turning back.” He holds her gaze, waiting.

She closes her eyes and lets her mind sift through all the good times. Meeting Henry. Befriending Mary Margaret. Learning to love her whole family. Saving everyone again and again. And falling in love. She needs to remember why she’s doing this, and who she’s doing it for.

This is the only way to be the Savior one last time. And there’s just one more thing she needs to do first. She doesn’t want Killian’s last memory of her to be the anger he felt in that hospital room. She needs to leave him something more.

She reaches for the chain around her neck and pulls up to reveal the ring that’s been hanging against her skin. She tugs it off over her head and hands it to Gold. “Give this to Killian for me. And I need you to deliver a message to him for me. Please.”

Gold hesitates a moment, and then takes the ring. “Tell me what you want to say, and I’ll make sure he hears it.”

She keeps the message short and simple. There’s no way to say everything that ought to be said, so she focuses on what’s most important. “Have you got that?”

Gold nods. “I do.”

She takes a deep breath and turns back to face the pond. “Okay.”

She focuses her mind on her family one last time.

_Forgive me. Please._

“I’m ready. Do it.”

Gold cuts his hand with a pocket knife and winces at the pain. She can’t help but smile a little at this small reminder that at least her family won’t have to contend with the Dark One again.

As soon as his blood hits the water it begins to shimmer and smoke. In the distance a boat approaches.

Emma holds her breath. This is it.

The boat pauses a short way from shore and a dark, hooded figure stands watching from the prow.

“I want to make a deal,” she calls out. “A trade. Killian Jones is dying. I know you were planning on coming for him soon. But I can’t let that happen. If you let him live, you can have me instead.”

“I’m afraid old Charon isn’t authorized to make that sort of deal,” says a strange voice from behind her. “But I am.”

She turns and sees a man—an ordinary looking man in a well-tailored business suit—walking toward her.

When he stops just in front of her the air around him shimmers with heat, and she feels like she’s standing in front of a bonfire. Then he smiles, and the cold of the arctic ice settles over her.

“An interesting trade,” he says. “A Savior for a pirate. I’d like to add a Savior to my collection—I already have plenty of pirates.”

His voice sends chills down her spine and makes ears hurt, though he seems to be speaking in a normal tone. But there’s nothing normal about this being. He’s not the man he’s masquerading as. She knows exactly who he really is.

She lifts her chin. She needs to be brave. “If I do this, you have to swear that he’ll be healed. You have to swear that he’ll keep on living for a long, long time.”

He nods. “On my honor I swear it. Your pirate won’t join us for a few decades, at least. Not unless he hastens the journey himself.”

Emma swallows and nods. That’s enough.

“We need to make the deal official,” he says, extending his right hand.

Her hand trembles as she reaches up, and her skin starts to blister as her hand reaches his. He grasps her hand and she blinks in surprise. She’s not burning. His hand feels cool and smooth.

They shake and a sharp prick of pain wells in her palm.

He releases her hand and stares down at it. There is a puncture in the middle of her hand, welling a few drops of blood.

He holds up his own hand for her to see. There is a smear of red on his palm which slowly fades as his skin absorbs it. “That’s how we do it where I come from,” he says, smiling his icy smile again. “The deal is made. Your pirate is healed. Shall we?”

He gestures toward the boat.

Without thinking Emma steps into the pond. Her feet don’t sink through the water. Instead she walks across it like it’s a path leading the way to her fate.

She doesn’t look back. She’s not afraid. Not anymore.

She’s paid the price for what she did. That’s enough.

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

The closer Killian gets to the pond the weaker he feels. The blood is slick down his neck and it soaks the left side of his shirt. He won’t last much longer. But he’s almost there. He’ll find her in time.

He has to find her.

Then he stops with a gasp as a different sort of pain flares in his neck. His body feels stronger, and the blood on his neck no longer feels wet.

Though he can’t see it he knows it in his gut—the wound is healing.

There’s only way one Emma could have done it.

He pushes past his exhaustion and starts to run. “Emma! Emma—stop!”

Panting he passes the trees ringing the shore and sees a boat gliding away from the shore into a foggy cloud. He catches a glimpse of golden hair and a red jacket inside the boat before it slips into the cover of the fog.

“Emma! No!” He’s too late. The fog swallows the boat and then vanishes, leaving behind nothing but the dark water of the pond beneath the growing dawn.

He sinks to his knees at the edge of the water as sobs shake his chest, shooting fresh pain through his still-healing wound. He doesn’t give a damn about the pain. He doesn’t give a damn about anything anymore.

He did everything he possibly could to save her from this, and he failed. He was too bold and too clumsy. He let Arthur wound him when he should have been safe. He didn’t stop Emma when she insisted on saving him back in that field of middlemist. He’d failed her then, and he’d failed her now.

He wasn’t worth this. It should have been him. He should have ended it before she could take his place. As soon as he knew what she was planning he should have made sure he passed into the Underworld before she had time to act. Once again, he’d been too weak.

When the worst of the sobs pass he finally notices the quiet figure standing a few yards down the bank from him. “You,” he hisses at the crocodile. He’s always been there to lord over Killian’s greatest losses. Today is no exception.

Killian struggles to his feet. “You did this. You opened this portal for her. You let her make the trade!” He lurches toward the crocodile, anger and despair pushing every good thought from his mind.

Gold holds his ground, leaning on his cane. “I did only what she asked of me. If I hadn’t agreed she’d have taken my blood by force. There was no stopping her.”

Was the man _smirking_? How dare he? _How dare he?_

“You could have tried!” Killian roars. “You could have fought her. You could have slowed her down until I could get to her—or Regina could. You could have tried, but instead you opened the bloody gates to hell with a smile, didn’t you? This is your fault!”

Killian lunges at Gold with a half-formed blow. His mind is empty of anything other than rage. He has to fight. He has to hurt someone. Pain is all that’s left.

His blow barely clips Gold’s shoulder, and he stumbles forward as Gold shifts away from him. “I don’t want to fight you, pirate!”

Killian lets out a strangled cry and strikes out again, this time landing his blow against Gold’s cheek. The crocodile stumbles backward and trips over a stone, landing hard on the ground.

Killian strides forward to stand over Gold where he lies helpless and cringing. He’s waited for this moment for so, so long—

“Killian! Stop!” Henry’s voice rings out loud and clear, snapping Killian out of his murderous trance.

He turns to see Henry running toward him with Regina, David, and Mary Margaret not far behind.

Killian heaves a few more deep, shuddering breaths, the last of his rage seeping out him. All that’s left is hopeless despair and a bone-deep exhaustion that will probably never leave him. He takes a few steps back from Gold and once more sinks to his knees. He doesn’t have the will to stand.

Gold struggles back to his feet as the others arrive.

“We found the dreamcatchers. We remember. We remember everything,” says David. “What Emma did to you. You’re—you were—are you still a Dark One?” 

Killian has no will to answer. He lets Gold speak for him. “He’s no more a Dark One than I am. Emma finished all of that when she killed Zelena.”

“Where is she?” Henry insists? “Where’s my mom?”

Killian stares blankly at the ground as Gold explains what Emma did. What she did for him.

_It should have been me. It should have been me. It should have been me._

The refrain is all he can think. It’s all he can feel.

“Belle has letters that she left for you,” Gold tells the others. “She left them for Henry and her parents.”

_Not for me. All I got was her farewell in the hospital. Where I cursed at her. Where I blamed her._

She died thinking he hates her. He’ll never forgive himself for that. Never.

“Killian.” He looks up to see Regina bending over him. “There’s nothing more we can do here. Let’s go.”

It’s the first time she’s ever called him by his name. Is that how pathetic he looks? That even Regina will try to be kind? He shakes his head. “Leave me alone.”

She frowns and looks back at the others.

“I’ll stay with him,” says Gold. Killian blinks in surprise. Before he can pull together any coherent thoughts the others have all nodded and, huddling together for comfort, walked back toward town.

Gold limps to stand next to him and pulls a long chain from his pocket. He dangles it in front of Killian’s face. It is Liam’s ring.

“Your Swan asked me to give this to you. She told me to tell you that you’re stronger than you know. She wants you to be strong for Henry and her parents. She knows you’re the only one who can help them understand why she did what she did. And she wants you to live.” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, and then he lets go of the chain, dropping the ring on the ground.

“There,” says Gold. “I’ve done what I promised. Now you’re on your own. Just like you always have been.” Leaning on his cane he limps away.

In spite of the sneering taunt, Killian has no rage left. He has nothing left at all. He’s a hollowed out shell where a man used to live. And to think that just two months ago he actually thought of himself as a hero.

That version of himself was never anything but a dream.

He doesn’t know how long he kneels on the shore of that pond before he musters the will to pick up the ring and stand. All he knows is that the sun is nearing its peak in the sky when he manages to put one foot in front of the other and begins to walk.

There is no conscious will behind his movements—only instinct. He is only mildly surprised when he finds himself standing at the gangplank to the Jolly Roger sometime in the early afternoon.

He drags himself onto his ship and down to his cabin, pausing only to snag the nearest bottle of rum before collapsing onto his bed.

It’s not long before drink and exhaustion carry him into oblivion.

Judging by the light when he wakes it’s already mid-morning of the next day. He’s slept for more than twelve hours, and no one’s come. No one cares.

Why did Emma think they would need him? Without her he’s nothing to them. Nothing to anyone.

In spite of everything he’s done to atone for his past and forge a better future, he’s still nothing more than a lonely, bitter pirate.

He drags himself out of bed long enough to find another bottle of rum, and then sinks back into the cold embrace of his blankets.

For more than a century the thirst for revenge kept him from giving up. It kept him from despairing. But now he has no one to hate except himself.

He blinks awake again at the sound of footsteps coming toward his cabin door. For a heart stopping moment he thinks it’s Emma coming to fetch him—that all of the past weeks were nothing but a nightmare.

But then he feels the pounding in his head and the ache in his neck and the stiffness of his shirt crusted in dry blood, and he knows that Emma will never come again. He closes his eyes. He doesn’t care who it is. 

“Leave me alone,” he murmurs when he hears the door open.

“Sorry. I can’t do that, Killian.” Belle’s gentle voice registers as a surprise. He never guessed she of all people would be the one to come looking for him.

He opens his eyes. She stands next to his table holding a Granny’s takeout bag and a cardboard tray holding four large coffees. He raises an eyebrow at the coffee. “Expecting some more company?”

“No,” Belle says. “This is all for you.”

He closes his eyes again. “Don’t want it.”

“Open your eyes, Killian.” Her voice is insistent. “I’m not letting you do this. I’m not letting you give up.”

He frowns but does as she says. She’s put the food and drink down on his table and stands over him with a stern look on her face.

“I’m not going to let you wallow in here and drink yourself to death,” she says, glaring at him.

“Why shouldn’t I? I’ll see her again sooner if I do.” It’s first time he acknowledges to himself or anyone else what he’s been doing since he watched her disappear into that fog, and the pain in his heart flares hot and fresh all over again.

“No!” Belle commands. “You’re not the kind of man who gives up, and I’m not going to let you start.”

“Why the hell not?” Why would anyone possibly want to keep him around now that Emma’s gone?

Without hesitation she replies. “Because you’re my friend.” 

His mind freezes at her frank words.

Her voice and face both soften. “You’re one of the only real friends I have left. So I won’t give up on you.”

The pain in his heart and his head throbs anew, and for the first time since Gold left him alone by the pond he feels tears welling in his eyes.

“Now get up and come eat.” Belle extends a hand toward him.

There’s only one thing he can do. He takes her hand lets her help him to the table.

After the first few bites of the macaroni and cheese that she brought he suddenly realizes how starving he is. He wolfs down the rest of the pasta and finishes off with a slice of apple pie. He’s just started on his third cup of coffee when Belle coaxes him to let her check his wound.

She tuts a little as she carefully pulls off the old and grimy dressing and takes a look at the freshly-stitched scar. “Well, in spite of your best efforts there doesn’t seem to be any infection,” she says. “It looks like it will heal cleanly.”

Killian clenches his jaw, not certain whether that is good new or bad.

His mind is still so numb from the pain of his loss—of his failure—that he hasn’t said much since Belle arrived. There’s nothing left to say.

He finishes his third coffee while she rifles through his belongings to find him a set of clean clothes. Once she has an outfit gathered she turns to him. “Come on. We’re going.”

“Going where?” He stays in his chair.

“To Granny’s. I’ve got you a room. You can take a long shower and put on these fresh clothes. Granny and I are going to make sure you eat regularly and take care of yourself.” She smiles slightly. “I’m not the only friend you have here, you know.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods. Her kindness today—it’s more than he ever expected of anyone.

Perhaps he’s not as alone as he thought.

He grabs Liam’s ring from his rumpled bed and hangs the chain around his neck before following Belle out to her car. Wearing the ring—touching it—sparks new thoughts in his mind, and brings up old memories. He fought for more than a century for the sake of his first love. Emma deserves nothing less. He was wrong to despair so quickly.

Belle speaks as she drives. “Henry came to Rumple last night. He asked him to open the portal again. He wanted to go get his mom back.”

Killian blinked in shock. “Bloody hell—you can’t let the lad go traipsing into the Underworld alone!”

Belle gives him a pointed look. “We didn’t. Don’t worry. But he’s very determined. I don’t think he’s going to let go of this idea anytime soon. We need to look after him.”

Killian nods, an idea springing to his mind with crystal clarity. Emma wanted him to be there for Henry. Belle is right. Henry needs his mother back, and Killian knows he can make it happen.

When they reach Granny’s inn Belle leads him up to his room and hands him his key and his clean clothes. “There’s shampoo and soap in the shower. Make sure you clean the wound carefully—you don’t want to pull out any of the stitches.”

Killian nods and manages an almost-smile at her maternal concern. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” She gives a short nod. “I have the room right across the hall. I’ll be there for the next few hours if you feel like talking, alright?”

This one puzzles him a bit. “You aren’t staying here for my sake, are you? You should go home. I’ll be okay.”

Belle’s smile falters a little. “Rumple and I are… taking a little time apart.”

“Oh.” Killian has no idea how to reply.

She takes a deep breath. “He seems to be a genuinely changed man now that the curse is lifted. He wants to make a fresh start. But he’s hurt me so many times I—I’m just not sure I have it in me to keep trying. I need to sort some things out on my own before I make a decision.”

Under different circumstances Killian would have applauded her bravery for taking a stand. But now he knows just how difficult it is to love a Dark One—and to _be_ a Dark One. “I’m sorry.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Go—get cleaned up. You’ll feel better once you do.”

She’s right. The long, hot shower leaves him with a clearer head than he’s had in days.

Belle is right about one other thing. He’s not the kind of man who gives up. His despair and exhaustion got the better of him yesterday. But not anymore. His mind is clear, and he knows exactly what to do. He won’t let Emma pay the price that was supposed to be his. He’s going to fix this.

After he dresses he takes a long look at his wound in the mirror. The gash is still red—marred by the tiny dark stitches crossing over it. It still aches. He hopes it never stops. It will help him remember what he’s fighting for—just as his hook reminded him of his old fight for so many decades.

_This fight had better not take that bloody long._

In spite of Belle’s kind invitation he’s not in the mood for the kind of talking he knows she has in mind. Instead, he slips out of his room and out the back entrance of the inn before anyone can notice him. He doesn’t want sympathy or condolences right now.

He wants to act.

The brisk air refreshes and invigorates him as he walks. He toys with the ring hanging against his chest, and he knows that he can finally be the hero he always wanted to be. He was weak before—now it’s time to be strong.

Regina answers her door quickly when he knocks. Her mouth hangs open in surprise. “Killian. When no one saw you all day yesterday we were worried. I thought about going after you myself, but when Belle volunteered I thought her…gentle touch…might be more to your liking. It appears I was right.”

He nods. “Aye. Her company did me a great deal of good.”

“Good. I’m glad,” she says. He raises his brows in surprise. This is a side of the queen that he hasn’t often seen. “Well—come in,” she says, stepping out of the way and gesturing for him to enter.

He steps inside, watching the concern on her face with curiosity. 

She frowns. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She rests her hands on her hips. “Like you only just realized I have a heart.”

He shrugs. “I simply didn’t realize that the purview of your heart extended to me.”

She huffs. “Well, it does. Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

Still amused by her unexpected tenderness, Killian smiles a little and shakes his head. “No. Thank you. I was hoping for a chance to speak with Henry. Is the lad here?”

A gleam of sorrow enters Regina’s eyes and she nods. “Yes. I think he’ll be very glad to talk to you. I’ll go get him.”

Halfway down the stairs Henry’s eyes lock with his, and begin to well with tears. Before Killian has time to react Henry rushes the rest of the way down and flings his arms around Killian, his body shaking with quiet sobs. Killian returns the embrace and lets his own tears flow. He’s not alone in this. Neither of them are alone.

After a moment he glances across the foyer at Regina, and sees tears standing in her eyes, as well.

Killian only hopes their shared pain will be enough to win support for the plan growing in his mind.

Once Henry’s emotions calm they sit together in the living room. Regina gives them their privacy.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to end,” Henry says softly, looking down.

“I know,” Killian agrees. “We all made mistake these past months. Mine were worse than most. And your mother thought she had to pay the price for those mistakes by herself. But she was wrong. We’re going to fix this.”

Henry raises his face, hope gleaming in his eyes.

“Belle told me what you wanted last night when you went to see your grandfather.”

Henry’s face hardens. “It can work. I know it can.”

“It can work and it will work,” Killian replies, channeling all the intensity of his emotions away from the despair he felt yesterday and into something new: determination. “But not if you try to do it your bloody self. This isn’t a one man job, lad.”

Henry begins to smile, and Killian smiles back.

“You’ll come with me? We can do this together?” Henry asks.

“Aye.” Killian nods. “We’ll find her, and we’ll bring her home.” He’ll finally be able to pay the price that should have been his in the first place.

Henry’s smile blossoms into a grin. “My grandparents—I know if we explain things to them, they’ll come, too. And my other mom. And Robin. It’s what we do in this family—we find each other.”

This is exactly the response Killian had hoped for. “Aye. It is.”

“But first,” Henry says, suddenly serious, “you need to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Mr. Gold told me what it takes to get someone out of the Underworld—a soul for a soul. Promise me you won’t try to trade yourself for her.”

Killian’s breath hitches in his throat. He can’t meet Henry’s eyes.

“That’s what you were planning, isn’t it?” Henry asks.

Killian swallows hard. “If anyone deserves to be left in the Underworld, it’s me.” How the boy struck right to the heart of his plan so quickly astonishes him. “You need your mother. Your grandparents need their daughter.”

“And she needs _you_ ,” Henry says, his gaze boring right into Killian’s soul. “We don’t leave people behind in this family. That includes you. So promise me you won’t try to make that trade. Promise me we’ll find another way. Otherwise you won’t be coming with us.”

Killian shakes his head. He’s not their family. Not really. This can’t be happening. What if there’s no other way?

After the life that Killian has led—after the countless crimes he’s committed—he’s never deserved the love Emma offered him. And he doesn’t deserve Henry’s protection. If the lad knew the truth…

_But he knows the truth about Regina, and he still forgave her._

His own words from two nights ago echo in his mind: _“all sins can be forgiven when someone loves you.”_

He believed those words with his whole heart when he spoke them. Can he still believe in them, now?

He sees the confidence and determination shining in Henry’s eyes, and he allows himself to believe. Emma still loved him enough to trade her life for his sake. She didn’t make that sacrifice just so he could steal it away from her.

She forgave him. Could he still forgive himself?

“You really think we can find another way?” he asks softly.

Henry nods. “Yes. I do.”

The boy has seen his family accomplish the impossible more times than Killian can count. Why should he think this time will be any different?

_Would it be so wrong to let myself feel that kind of hope?_

“Promise me,” Henry repeats again.

Okay. It’s time to turn his back on darkness once and for all. It’s time to embrace hope, instead.

Killian nods. “I won’t trade myself. You have my word.”

Henry’s smile returns and he gives a firm nod. “Good. Now let’s call the family together. It’s time to plan a trip.”

Killian nods back, feeling an exhilarating lightness in his chest. He’s yet to see this family fail. And he’ll be damned if this is the first time. 

_I’ll find you, Emma. I will always find you._

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave myself a million Captain Book and Captain Cobra feels with this chapter. I'm ending things here because I don't have the time/energy to do a big Underworld AU. Thanks for reading!


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